Path of Dragons 14 - Chapter 5 - Relief and Realization

The Hartwood Grove had grown, and with every passing second, it continued to expand.  Elijah could feel it all.  The island.  The satellite trees.  Everything.  And for a moment, it was all so overwhelming that he remained stunned, slithering in the air. 

Then, he looked down at a snowy owl that had just emerged from the trees.  There was something different about it.  Something he couldn’t really pin down, but seemed obvious all the same. 

And then it hit him.

The owl was no true owl at all.  It was another Druid.  A few levels shy of ascension, if Elijah’s estimation was even close to accurate. 

“Huh,” he said, his voice rumbling across the canopy. “You’re new.”

It was the first time he’d spoken in months, and the sound came out like an earthquake wrapped in a drought.  But it felt good to speak.  Cathartic, after everything he’d experienced in the void. 

Elijah wasn’t sure how long he’d been traveling through that cursed space between dimensions.  All he knew was that enough time had passed that he’d long since run out of supplies.  The enemies he’d encountered weren’t common, but he’d still fought more times than he could count.  Some were like that robed traveler who attacked him on sight.  Others were monsters that managed to slither free of their own dimensions.

Usually, Elijah’s only recourse was escape.

Fortunately, the Shape of the World Serpent was good at that.  Despite being vastly weaker than most creatures he encountered, Elijah’s newest form was well-suited to traveling through the void.  The others found it more difficult, and to the point where they were entirely incapable of chasing him.

That was the only reason he’d survived.

As Elijah had followed that slim connection between Treebie and the World Tree, the attacks became more frequent.  In the calmer hours between those assaults, Elijah had come to realize that their increasing frequency was a good thing.  It told him that he was getting closer to the nine realms that lay within the World Tree’s influence.

Closer to getting home.

So, he forged ahead, ramming through any obstacle in his way.  It didn’t matter if those impediments came in the form of starvation or powerful enemies, Elijah smashed his way through them with all the subtlety of a battering ram. 

Even so, he nearly died on enough occasions that teetering on the edge of oblivion lost its meaning.  That was just his life. 

More than once, he was forced to enter mostly benign dimensions so he could heal.  But he never stayed long.  He couldn’t afford to laze about.  Not with his lack of supplies.  Sure, he ate a few monsters here and there, but most of those meals ended up poisoning him.  Not because they were toxic, but rather because they were built upon different rules.  They were so alien to him that he simply couldn’t process them.

At least he got some nutrition from them.  And most times, the water he found shared a lot of characteristics with water from his reality, so he managed to avoid dying from thirst.  Even if doing so was incredibly unpleasant.  It also left him weakened by no small degree.

Elijah continued to follow that thread of connection until it thickened into an actual ley line.  The pulsing flow of ethera soon became too powerful for him to endure, so he skated along just above it until, at last, he saw something he never really expected to see again.

The grove.

His island.

For longer than he cared to admit, he just stared at it through the seam between his reality and the void.  If the World Serpent had been capable of crying, his scaley cheeks would have been covered in tears.  But as it was, the only evidence of his relief was a tightness in his chest.

He’d slithered through and, to his shock, encountered what he believed to be another Animist.

To his credit, the young Druid didn’t flee.  He didn’t speak, either.  He just hovered there, trembling like an actual bird. 

“Alright then,” Elijah muttered to himself, shifting back into his human form.  As he did so, he extended his infrequently used wings.  They’d come along with his core cultivation back in the Broken Crown, but he so rarely found a reason to use them because he had much better options.  The ability to glide wasn’t a big deal when he had two forms capable of real flight.

Even as those ephemeral wings of emerald energy spread out, he let himself descend into the dense canopy.  It seemed that Nerthus had been hard at work making the island livable, because he soon found himself staring at an entire city of treehouses.  They’d been grown from giant trees, and they were connected by bridges made of living vines. 

Elijah had already sensed that the population of the grove had exploded in his absence, with almost five thousand people currently living in the city in the trees.  His locus told him that most of those people had moderate-to-strong nature attunements, but there were a few standouts.

Like the Animist he’d just encountered.

And to his vast relief, Elijah also sensed a few familiar presences.  Nerthus was there, and though everything had stopped due to the rapid growth of the grove, the spryggent had obviously been teaching a class to a group of gathered youngsters.  Elijah also sensed Nara on the island’s coast.  Miguel was visiting Biggle, though both had already started jogging toward the center of the island, where they obviously hoped to find some answers.

And then there was Ironshore.

Elijah felt it, too.  Though he was happy to note that Ramik’s Seal of Authority remained just as strong as ever, which diluted Elijah’s sense of the city.  A good thing, considering he had no desire to feel the presence of so many people.

The same could not be said for his satellite groves, though the population around most of those was thankfully light.  Except the one in Argos, which felt somehow further away than all the others.

He could still sense it, but it was like looking through a dirty window.

Once Elijah was through the canopy, he saw the grove laid out below him.  And this time, he did cry.

Tears of joy tracked down his cheeks as he slowly drifted downward.  Then, his feet fell upon the soft, loamy turf he’d once taken for granted.  A wave of relief and happiness swept through him as he sank to his knees.  For once, he had no words.  No way to express what he was feeling, save to fall backward and luxuriate in the wonder of his home.

The first reminder that he was not alone came from a barking dog.

He sat up and saw a familiar canine bounding across the small meadow where he’d touched down. 

Or rather, skimming through the air above it.  Because Escobar’s feet never touched the ground. 

He hit Elijah like a flaming rocket, proving that he’d not slacked off in his own progression.  Elijah flew backward – only partially because of the momentum of the dog’s charge – to soon feel Escobar’s rough tongue on his cheeks.  Another few barks announced the arrival of the rest of Oscar’s pack.

And before Elijah knew it, he was buried under soft fur. 

The pack, it seemed, had grown in Elijah’s absence.  More than twenty dogs, some of whom were still puppies, blanketed Elijah.  And in those moments, he realized just how much he’d missed that feeling.  It brought to mind those months he’d spent in the Elemental Maelstrom, with only Oscar and the pack for company.  It also reminded him of his previous pets. 

Like Fremont.

But mostly, it just reminded Elijah of everything he’d missed since entering the Labyrinth of Dead Gods.  All the little things, like familiar animals and the smell of moist earth.  The trees and the birds and the insects. 

Druhmor had come close to that.  By the time he’d left, it was well on its way. But that kind of transformation wasn’t possible in only a couple of short decades.  It would be centuries before it reached that level.

“You’re back.”

Elijah didn’t need to look up to know that Oscar had arrived.  Even if he’d been incapable of sensing the man’s arrival, the presence of the pack was enough of a hint.

Finally, Elijah pushed the dogs aside and sat up.  “I’m back.”

“Good.  I knew you would come.  Nara will be glad.”

Before Elijah could respond to Oscar’s sedate welcome, a few people burst through the trees.  The first was Nerthus, who’d grown quite a bit over the years.  He’d reached a height of more than twenty feet, but the bulk of his growth had come in the form of increased girth.  His trunk-like torso carried with it a solidity that he’d once lacked.  If before he’d been sapling, easily bending in the wind, now he was a mighty oak that would stand tall even in a hurricane.

Next came Nara herself, and she looked nearly identical to when he’d left.  The same compact, tan body.  The same blue whorls marking her skin.  Her white hair was longer than he remembered, though. 

And then there was Miguel, followed by Biggle.

The gnome was out of breath, probably because he’d been slacking off in his fitness training.  But Miguel had no such issues.  Despite the fact that he’d obviously sprinted across the island, his breath was even.

But his appearance truly showed Elijah just how much time had passed.

When he’d left, Miguel was still a teenager.  Seventeen or eighteen years old.  Only a couple of years removed from gaining his class. 

Very little of that boy remained. 

Miguel had grown into a man.  Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked like an ideal Warrior.  Maybe he was, given the power surrounding him like a cloud of authority.  His jaw was sharp, his chin strong. 

His features favored Carmen’s, but his bearing reminded Elijah of Alyssa.

That was probably fitting, considering the formative influence of both of his parents. 

However, because of how much aging had changed with the arrival of the World Tree, Elijah couldn’t really tell how old Miguel was.  He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, but his eyes told a different story.  They were full of tension and age.  That, coupled with Elijah’s certainty that he’d been on Gorveth for far longer than a decade, told him that Miguel was much older than he appeared.

Elijah pushed the dogs aside and rose to his feet.  Thankfully, he’d donned some clothes during his last rest stop, though calling them that was a bit of a stretch.  Nothing in his wardrobe had survived his journey unscathed, and his current outfit was no exception.  It had been torn to ragged strips that barely covered anything but the most important bits. 

On top of that, his hair and beard were long and patchy – a result of time and his many battles.  And finally, he was well aware that he looked like he hadn’t eaten in months.  Which was precisely the case.

In short, he was a mess.

He had spent decades stranded in one of the most hostile places imaginable, only to spend untold years journeying through an even worse environment.  So, he’d earned his terrible appearance.

For a few moments, no one spoke.  Instead, they all just stared at Elijah until, at last, Miguel broke the silence by asking a simple question.  “Is it really you?”

“It is,” was the only answer Elijah could muster.  “How long was I gone?”

He didn’t get a proper answer.  Instead, Miguel raced forward, practically tackling him.  A second later, his arms were around Elijah’s shoulders, crushing him in a bear hug.  Only then did Elijah realize that his nephew was sobbing. 

“We told them you were alive.  We told everyone.  Nobody believed us,” he breathed.  “Nobody thought you would come back.”

Elijah hugged his nephew just as fiercely, his previous question forgotten amidst the sheer outrush of emotion that came from the embrace.  For a moment, it felt like he was hugging everyone he’d left behind.  Everyone he’d ever lost.  His parents.  Alyssa.  Treebie back in Gorveth.  Carmen. Sadie.

Everyone.

It felt good.

And for the first time in longer than he could recall, he felt himself relax.  Truly, and without limitations. 

At last, he was home.